Chapter Eight

The man stomped into the chamber, a scowl on his face. Tapping a long, metal rod lightly on his palm that was glowing at one, flattened end, he said, "Your Padawan is proving difficult to capture, but we should soon have him. Why don't you make his imprisonment unnecessary, Jinn? He seems a little worse for wear already. Tell me what I want to know: Why are you here?"

Qui-Gon frowned a little as he stared at the man. He hadn't told the terrorist even who he was so how did he know his name? "We've never been formally introduced so how do you even know who I am?" he said dryly, stalling. "And of course my padawan's proving difficult to capture—he is learning the Jedi craft, after all."

The man gave him a look. "We might be on a backwater planet, Jinn, but we do have our resources intact. Plus, a slicer who is excellent at slipping past the Jedi Temple's security. It was very simple to find out who you and your padawan are." The man gazed at him a moment, debating inwardly, then said, "You probably do not know this, and I will tell you as a gesture of good faith that information will be presented to me in return...Obi-Wan is in very bad shape. I've been told that he is on his way in with several of my people, and though putting up a worthy fight, is extremely injured and sick. Did you know?" He gazed down at Qui-Gon quizzically.

An odd look flickered across Qui-Gon's face somewhere between anger and concern. He grunted in displeasure and pulled at the straps restraining him to the chair. So Obi-Wan had disobeyed him had he? Well he would learn the consequences for his actions once they arrived back at the Temple, Qui-Gon promised himself darkly. "No. I did not," he said flatly. He didn't add that it was because he'd been closing himself off from the boy attempting to keep his end of the bond shut so Obi-Wan wouldn't put himself at risk.

The man silently observed him for a moment, then said off-handedly, "Children." His tone changed to a darker and more menacing one. "It is your turn to offer information, Jinn. Why are you here?"

"I just did offer information," Qui-Gon pointed out mildly. "You asked if I knew and I answered. That's all the information I'm giving."

The man's gaze darkened. "Why are you being so difficult? It is just a small piece of information that I want!"

"You're just lucky I guess. I want to be away from Hoth instead of chained to this chair—can't always have what we want in life," he replied, his tone of voice sounding like a professor in a classroom lecture.

"Fine!" The man snapped. "Then let's try to coax it out of you a little more, shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, he stuck the extremely hot metal rod against the bottom of Qui-Gon's feet and pressed in hard.

Qui-Gon inhaled as the sharp, hot metal burned into the bottom of his feet. The pain was incredible. He felt as if he were on fire and yet freezing all at the same time from the sweat chilling his body. The longer the rod was held to his feet, the deeper it burned, and he swore viciously, determined to try to keep silent lest his apprentice hear him in his pain.

A loud knock sounded from behind them and the man twisted around, a satisfied look on his face. "Ah, here at last," he remarked as a shivering, extremely pale Obi-Wan was shoved into the room. He landed on the floor and didn't move. The man glanced at Qui-Gon. "Now we'll get our answers, but first I need to prepare." He lifted the rod from Qui-Gon's feet and ordered Obi-Wan to be tied to a long pole near Qui-Gon so that the boy was dangling by his hands and feet, like a gundar at a feast. "I'll be back soon," the man promised as he walked out.

Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief as the man left. He yelped a little from his breath and grimaced as he tried to wiggle his toes. A sharp pain shot through him. He immediately desisted and craned his neck to try to look at his apprentice.

Obi-Wan was so pale that even his freckles weren't showing. A thin film of sweat covered his body and his chest, arms and some of his face (his tunic being removed by the man when strapping him in place) were covered with unhealed sores and blisters from the explosion. Obi-Wan shivered, though he seemed hot. "Master," the boy said through chattering teeth, "I'm ...sorry..."

"It's a bit late for that now, apprentice," Qui-Gon said, sighing a little as he twisted in his bonds. He hurt—everywhere. But he knew his pain didn't really matter at the moment. Obi-Wan was obviously sick and injured.

Obi-Wan then glanced over at his master. His sight was blurry and his eyes hurt but he couldn't help but laugh when he noticed all the little dots over his master's body.

"Something amusing you, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked rather testily. He saw nothing funny about the situation the two of them both happened to be in.

Obi-Wan choked, and managed to force out, "You look like one of those dotted books that I used to enjoy drawing lines with when I was in the creche." He had tears in his eyes, but it wasn't from laughter. His whole body hurt and felt like fire. Again, he said, "I'm sorry, Master..." then passed out.

Qui-Gon watched his padawan hunt for a means of escape in the small room they were in. He was still floating in the bacta tank and could be of no assistance to his padawan—a fact which irritated him greatly.

Obi-Wan examined the door for the millionth time. He felt a prodding from the Force that this was the way out, but it seemed too easy to him. Yes, with the Force he could very easily unlock the door and escape, but he doubted the pirates were quite that stupid. Yet... He turned. Master, I have a way out,he decided.

Oh?came the reply. Good. Then get back to the ship and warn the other researchers about what's happened. As I'm still trapped in a bacta tank I won't be able to go with you, padawan.

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. I'm not leaving without you, no matter what you say.He told his Master resolutely. I know how to get you out of there. Just a second.Then he closed down his bond so he didn't have to hear his master's anger or protests as he walked to the side of the tank and switched it from 'circulation' to 'recycle'. Slowly the bacta drained out and Obi-Wan climbed up the short ladder to assist his master out of the tank.

Qui-Gon stared reproachfully at Obi-Wan as he removed the oxygen mask that had helped him breathe in the tank. He climbed out, wincing at how shaky he was after being in there for so long and then he shivered, chilled from the bacta dripping from him.

Obi-Wan took a very thin towel that was near the tank and silently rubbed his master's skin and clothes. The idiot pirates had put him in there fully clothed. This would make escape even harder if he couldn't get his master dried enough.

Qui-Gon shivered as he continued to stand, leaning most of his weight on Obi-Wan, trying to keep as much as possible off his broken leg which protested as he tried to shift position.

Obi-Wan got Qui-Gon halfway dry, which was the most he would be able to do in the present circumstances. "There," he said, carefully standing so as to not hurt or overbalance his master. "Shall we go down the steps so you can sit down?"

Qui-Gon winced at the idea of trying to climb with his bad leg, but he knew he had to. Gingerly, he tried to shift position and move his leg down to the next stair, then grimaced at the sharp pain that shot through him.

Obi-Wan had reopened his bond to Qui-Gon and winced at the echo of pain he felt from his master. He tried to take the majority of his master's weight to keep the pain down, but when Qui-Gon leaned on his shoulders and chest it caused his tunic to dig into his blisters and he had to bite down to keep from yelling in pain himself. Finally, though, they made it to the bottom step and Qui-Gon was able to sit. Obi-Wan turned so his master wouldn't see the pain in his eyes, trying to recover, knowing that he'd have to help his master walk on the escape out of there.

Qui-Gon panted heavily as he sat down on the chair Obi-Wan had been sitting in that was in front of the bacta tank. Climbing down the stairs had taken an enormous amount of effort and he'd nearly slipped at least twice with the spasms in his bad leg. It was with great relief that he was finally able to sit.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and found his center. He willed the pain to the back of his mind, setting up a block to keep himself from feeling any more pain, unless it became too bad. Finally, he was able to face his master again, calm and collected. "Well, I know it sounds really simple, but we're just going to go out the front door," he said, pointing at the door beside Qui-Gon. "And as they led me here I think I found where they put our lightsabers...it should be on the way out of here, though I'm sorry to admit that I don't remember much of when they dragged me in here so I don't recall the layout that well."

Qui-Gon nodded a little. He'd expected as much—his padawan had been feverish when he'd been brought in. He hadn't expected him to remember that much. "I suppose we'd better be on our way then, although it would be nice to figure out what they did with our cold weather gear." He sighed deeply.

Obi-Wan nodded. "It would be nice to have it again," he remarked. "But, as Master Kyran likes to say, 'Wishes are like ideas...numerous but not always there to provide help'." He grinned at his master.

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes a little and clenched his teeth. In order to get out he'd have to stand again. He did so slowly, wobbling unsteadily as he gained his feet, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain that flashed through his leg.

Obi-Wan was at his side at once, again supporting him. "Take it slow, Master," he encouraged.

"We don't have much time for slow," Qui-Gon said as he panted for breath. "They could be back any minute to check on us."

Obi-Wan saw the truth to this and so he concentrated, releasing the locks on the door with the Force. He helped Qui-Gon reach the doorway, then glanced up and stopped. All the pirates, it seemed, were gathered in the corridor, Dwine in front, and all had blasters pointed at them.

"About time," Dwine commented.

Qui-Gon swore as he found himself facing several blasters. "We'd've done this a little sooner perhaps if you'd volunteered to help any," he remarked dryly.

Dwine gave him a thin smile. "I was curious how the Jedi team of Master and Padawan worked together. Plus, I was delayed by having to locate a new base." He glanced at Obi-Wan, who was bent over with his master's weight. "Let us escort you out." He held up two objects...their lightsabers. "You'll get these when you leave our base, so no Force stuff."

Obi-Wan was confused. "Why are you helping us leave? And giving our lightsabers back?" He had never met such accommodating captors before.

"Because obviously we don't want them," Dwine said cheerfully. "Once you die out in the snow, we'll go back to our normal routine as terrorists that you so rudely interrupted."

Obi-Wan glanced at his master. He's crazy if he thinks we'll just calmly go out to die,he thought.

Qui-Gon frowned a little at Obi-Wan and he trembled with effort to stand still—he wanted so badly to sit. You can still escape without me,he pointed out.

Nope,Obi-Wan cheerfully responded quickly. Then he glanced at Dwine. "Lead the way, I suppose."

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Qui-Gon's teeth chattered violently as he tried to make his way, following behind Obi-Wan. He had refused to burden his apprentice more than he had already—out in the snow Obi-Wan would have a harder time dealing with the pain of his burns and caring for his master at the same time. He stumbled suddenly and fell, sending him face first into the snow. He was so tired—so cold. His feet had long ago numbed from not having anything to cover them from the chill. He had tried using the Force to stay warm but it was proving very difficult.

Obi-Wan trudged through the snow, breaking through the mounds first to help his master walk easier. He wished he could give his master his boots, but their feet were two different sizes. Instead, he used the Force to form a thin layer of warmth beneath his master's feet. It wasn't much...wasn't very noticeable...but it would keep his master from frostbite and loosing his toes. His burns felt like pockets of sharp ice against his cold skin which throbbed every time he moved. He was already sneezing again and was so cold he didn't much feel it anymore.

He heard something behind him and turned to see Qui-Gon laying face first in the snow. He rushed as quickly as he could back to him. "Master!"

Padawan,Qui-Gon sent tiredly. He couldn't speak over the wind with the soreness in his throat from where it had been drilled into. He tried to gain his feet without burdening Obi-Wan, but it was no use. He was stuck. I suppose this is as good of a place to stop as any. We have no way of knowing where on Hoth we are or how much further we'll have to go before reaching shelter.Qui-Gon rarely liked to admit a mission had gone bad, but he had to admit right now that things looked very bad indeed for the both of them.

Obi-Wan nodded, then sneezed so hard that he was knocked on his butt. "And I guess this is a good place to sit," he remarked dryly, his own voice hoarse. He slit his eyes and imagined the molecules around them solidifying. After about five minutes, he had used the Force to build a semi-shelter of frozen snow around them to block out some of the snow. He couldn't finish it, though...he was so tired...

Qui-Gon coughed violently, then winced deeply at the soreness in his throat. Oh, my padawan—I tried to protect you from this. I warned you not to go trekking across Hoth the first time alone...this is why...

Obi-Wan laid down on the snow. He felt so numb. I wasn't going to let you die alone, Master. I swore an oath as your padawan to protect you, even from yourself, and to learn from you. Well, your influence of breaking the rules was learning from you and I seem to have failed miserably at protecting you from my vision...He tried to joke in their bleak situation, but felt a warm darkness creeping up on him.

I do not deserve such loyalty. I have lived a full life and am ready to join the Force if it calls, but you still have your whole life to live, Obi- Wan. That is why I tried to protect you the way that I did,Qui-Gon said as his vision blurred. He knew unconsciousness was fast approaching.

I'm getting older, Master, and I will make my own decisions. Some of them will be right...and others will be wrong...but I do not regret coming for you. You are a father to me and I could not leave you to die alone,Obi- Wan sent. He blinked, but could not get rid of the dimness of his vision.

Yes...Force be with you, my Obi-Wan...Qui-Gon sent, and then he fell into the blackness of unconsciousness.

As Obi-Wan let the warm darkness of unconscious envelope him, he thought he heard a ship's engines approaching...